The Scorned Lover
by KamikazeSolo
Summary: Francis is held back at work on Valentine's Day, leaving a very impatient lover at home. He knows he's in for it now.


**This was written for a Valentine's Day Exchange on Tumblr for tumblr user cayatito. It is also my first smut/smutish fic so bear with me. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Also, I will probably update Three Days in Paris around the end of March because I have a lot on my plate right now. (But I've got the chapter planned out and it's basically smut so yeah.)**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

The pleasurable sensation was infinite—the erratic and sharp breath Francis was emitting was proof of that. His mind had become a scrambled mush since the moment that skillfully hot tongue guided its way up his hard and throbbing shaft. Any sense of fatigue that he had felt earlier upon arriving home was finally starting to fade away from his bones as he curled his slim fingers into the sandy blond hair that belonged to the absolutely wonderful man in between his legs.

_It was 4:28pm. Any stray papers had been cleaned from Francis's desk and the blond Frenchman himself was out of his seat and heading out of his cubicle. His feet were ready to take him home. _

_Unfortunately, the universe wasn't for when Francis was two steps away from gaining his freedom, a loud authoritative voice froze him in his tracks._

"_Bonnefoy, where do you think you're going?"_

_Francis plastered an annoyed smile on his face as he wheeled around to face the stoic, broad shouldered Ludwig Beilschmidt. _

"_Ah Ludwig," he began, "It's 4:30. I'm on my way home now. We are allowed to leave at 4:30 you know."_

_The German's habitual frown deepened and he crossed his arms. Francis only gulped, bracing himself for the worst. _

"_You cannot possibly think of leaving now!" Ludwig replied, his voice on the edge of scolding. "Our stocks have plummeted and several of our assets have frozen. There are going to be calls from investors and someone needs to take care of them. I'm having everyone else stay after too."_

_Two cubicles down, an obnoxiously loud American voice rose. _

"_I protest for having to stay overtime on Valentine's Day!"_

_Others around the office mumbled in agreement. _

_Ludwig scowled. _

_Francis groaned. Arthur would be livid. _

Teeth grazed over the tip. There was one last drawn out lick. And then Francis's member was engulfed in the cavernous excesses of the Briton's mouth. The Frenchman could almost feel his cock rub against the back of the others throat, the swallowing motions the other was making only driving him more and more over the edge. And then Arthur pulled away, causing Francis to hiss at the sudden rush of cold air. There was another teasing stroke of the tongue. Another unmerciful nudge of the tip with his thumb. And his mouth was on him again and Francis sucked in his breath. Nimble fingers teased his balls and the crevices between his thighs and crotch as heavy-lidded green eyes glazed with lust looked back up at him.

"Fuck," Francis moaned, clutching Arthur's hair with more force, his hips bucking forward. "Arthur."

_It was now 6:30pm. Alfred was playing with the phone cord while talking speaking into the receiver in monotone about how he was missing a Valentine's Day evening with his boyfriend. Feliciano had fallen asleep and was drooling all over his desk. His desk phone was ringing constantly. Antonio was ignoring his phone. Wang Yao was threatening investors with some mystical Chinese curse if they didn't get the fuck off the phone. Gilbert was nowhere to be seen. Francis merely stared out the window. _

_Basically everyone was on strike. _

_Alfred sighed noisily as he put the phone down and wheeled his chair to where Francis was sitting. _

"_Got someone waiting for you at home?" he asked. _

_Francis sighed. "Oui, I do. And he is going to be furious when he finds _I _of all people won't be there to welcome him home for Valentine's Day."_

_Alfred smiled sympathetically, misery marked on his own face. _

"_Mine's got a hockey stick."_

"…_I'm sorry."_

Somewhere along the way, Francis had loosened his hold on Arthur's locks and the Brit's sinful mouth was on his. Their lips meshed together messily and Francis ran his tongue teasingly along Arthur's lower lip before entwining the tongue that carried his taste. He made sure to thoroughly explore his lover's mouth before it escaped him again to instead gnaw on the sensitive skin below his earlobe.

Francis could feel the bruises being left behind on his skin and his breath hitched when Arthur raised his pink lips to his ear. Hot breath mixed with a tinge of alcohol only made Francis grind his hips against Arthur further, the need for friction increasing.

"Are you ready?" Arthur whispered huskily.

Francis furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Ready for wha-oh no cheri, you're not going to do what I think you are."

Arthur drew back, a pout prominent on his face.

"You're the one who missed Valentine's Day dinner," he said, the pout turning into a scowl. "It's only fair."

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Are you really going to sit there and argue with me until you get blue balls?"

Francis sighed.

_It wasn't until 9:32pm when Ludwig finally announced that the employees could all go home. Everyone cheered like their favorite sports team whatever competition they belonged to. Alfred ran out singing O'Canada at the top of his lungs. Gilbert was too busy dealing with an irritated and lonely violinist on his cellphone while Antonio tried to soothe a foul-mouthed Italian. _

_Francis too had jumped out of his seat, ready to race for the door when he caught sight of a miserable and tired looking Ludwig out of the corner of his eye. His heart crumbled a bit when he saw a dash of loneliness in his boss's eyes. And Francis was a Frenchmen. He would not stand for that on such a day. _

_Quickly, he dashed over to Feliciano before he too could leave. _

"_Ve? Yes Francis?" the slightly tired looking man asked. _

_Silently, Francis pointed over to Ludwig and whispered,_

"_Ask him to dinner. Trust me, you won't regret it."_

_And it was safe to say that Francis left work that day feeling quite satisfied that he left behind a potential ticking lovebomb. _

_Too bad there was another explosive waiting for him at home. _

Arthur went deeper into him with every thrust and it wasn't long before Francis was once again put on a path to ecstasy. His fingers clutched Arthur's shoulders while Arthur held his hips with equal force. The rhythmic rocking of the bed and the slapping of Arthur's balls against Francis's thighs became muddled in between passionate gasps. Francis released broken cries of "Ar-," and "-ur" as the Brit struck a sweet spot of nerves. Francis's vision blurred to the edges of white and Arthur buried his face in the crook of his lover's shoulders, biting down hard as he felt himself come closer and closer to a climax.

That night, Francis screamed.

In the morning he woke in the arms of a sedated Brit with the words _Happy Valentine's Day—_the last words he heard before he fell into the arms of slumber.

And he wondered how Alfred managed with the hockey stick and how Gilbert bested the riding crop and how Antonio seduced a potential shit storm and how Ludwig was probably waking up feeling a lot less grumpy and more embarrassed.

The End.

**Yay smut. Ish. Hope you liked it! Happy Belated Valentine's Day and early St. Patrick's Day.**


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